De L'âme
by I AM LADY RIDDLE
Summary: "There was nothing left for Hermione here. She would not go down with out a fight." Hermione no longer belonged in her world, so she decided to capture his. My first Tomione, be gentle. Rated M for future smut scenes. Just getting back into writing, please read & review.


Author's Note: I do not own the J.K Rowling universe or anything that lay within her magical realm (characters, places, spells.) However, I'd like to say that the story line will eventually be one of a kind and that the manipulations of the characters are mine. I've recently decided to get back into writing, feel free to review and give me feedback.

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A green light danced across the playing field before finally intertwining itself with the body it was casted for, the body which had since toppled over and rested atop the freshly wet grass. If it had been any other spell, the girl who stood watching swore Mrs. Weasley would've made a fuss about the grass stains which now undoubtedly covered the t-shirt of the man who lay still. But, it wasn't any other spell… it was the spell.

Avada Kedavra. With those two words, words that would seem insignificant to the muggles whom were blissfully unaware to all that was happening around them, everything changed. Those two words, combined with a lethal flick of the wrist brought a quick death to all that had ever been hit by the trail of light that signaled the killing curse had been cast. This was it. It was over. Everything was over.

The fighting stopped just as quickly as it begun, but there was more pain and sorrow to be brought to this day and the days, weeks, months to follow.

The only reason it had been brought to a steady halt was that everyone was just as stunned as the bushy haired girl who had been watching from the shadows. Even the death eaters seemed shocked at what lay before them, the corpse of the famous boy-who-lived. The silence drowned out after a few brief moments and was replaced with a victorious laugh erupted from the lips of the murderous villain himself.

Hermione's body trembled, her soul was racked with sorrow as her mind interpreted the scene which had just occurred. Harry Potter, her best friend, lay dead at the feet of their greatest enemy while she cowered behind shrubbery.

She fought every instinct to run to him, to wrap her arms around his lifeless body, to kill anyone who tried to stop her from holding onto him one last time. Nothing would've stopped her from doing so if it hadn't been for their few intimate moments before battle, moments the brunette now longed to return to.

Over the past few months, whilst the trio had been searching for horcruxes, the boy with the lightning shaped scar and the incessant know-it-all had become closer than ever, most of their bonding having taken place when Ron abandoned the group. Hermione had found herself in a deep depressive state after that, but Harry was always around to pick up the pieces.

One night it particular stood above all others, a night where Harry had took her hand a pulled her into a dance, a movement so simple but there had been so much meaning behind it. That night, the two fell asleep together, neither wanting to leave the other's side and feeling perfectly content in each other's arms. They had never slept alone after that, even after Ron had come back pleading they'd sneak into each other's bunks at night, longing to hold each other at the end of each day.

Moments before battle, Harry had whispered a promise into her ear, a promise of them being together no matter what happened, a promise that included his mother's diamond ring which was hastily slid onto a necklace and hidden from the outside world. No one could know until the battle was over, no friends would be lost due to their love. Above all, they would not be responsible for the other's death.

Hermione's hand slid up, grasping at the silver chain that lay hidden beneath her sweater, fingers trembling across her skin. Her eyes closed, mind reeling as she attempted to concentrate on breathing, feeling as though she were about to faint. Inhale, exhale. Breath. Counting had always helped Hermione focus on what needed to be done, and if there was a time for quick thinking, it was now.

One, Harry Potter was dead. Two, the Wizarding World had fallen to the evil bastard known primarily as Lord Voldemort. Three, there was undoubtedly more chaos to come. Four, the majority of the order had fallen or fled. Five, the elder wand was now loyal to a crazed lunatic. Six, the remaining resistance was low in number. Seven, muggle borns and blood traitors would be given merciless deaths. Eight, there was nothing left here for Hermione. Nine, she would not go down without a fight. Ten, there was another chain hanging from her neck.

Hermione clutched onto the time-turner for dear life. This was it, the redemption, the saving grace. This was the chance to erase everything that had happened here. Five turns back, two to the left, and one incantation later, she found herself literally zipping through time and space until everything went fuzzy and eventually faded to black.


End file.
